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His voice turned husky as he said, “You should look like that all the time.”
“How’s that?” Cass dared to ask, unable to take her gaze off him.
“Angelic, as if you had found nirvana.”
Emotion that had nothing to do eating meat pie and everything to do with the fire in Lyle’s eyes flashed through her. This caring and comforting man wanted her. That knowledge was empowering.
“Hello, Lyle.” a woman’s soft voice said from behind Cass.
The pleasure lighting Lyle’s face went out, leaving a blank look with a hint of surprise. The woman was important to Lyle. Cass turned to see her. She had vivid blue eyes and was heavily pregnant. A sick feeling filled her stomach. Who was the woman to Lyle?
* * *
The last person Lyle had expected to see was Freya. He hadn’t seen her for some time. Through his mother and father, he’d learned that she had married and moved to Fort William. He was truly glad for her, but that didn’t make the surprise of seeing her again any less nerve rattling.
He laid his food down and stood. “Freya.”
“It’s nice to see you, Lyle.” She sounded hesitant, as if she was afraid of his reaction. “How are you?”
“Well. And you?”
Her hand went to rest on her protruding middle. “I’m doing fine.”
Lyle felt a sharp, piercing pain. They had talked about and planned on now many children they would have. There had been so many dreams they’d shared. He mentally shook his head. Those were long gone. Their relationship had been doomed the minute he’d boarded the train for training camp. He knew that now, but back then he’d been too caught up in pleasing his father by joining the army and the image of his fiancée waiting on his glorious return to see reality. Knowing his own mind and what he wanted out of life hadn’t entered the equation. Much less fighting for it.
Freya glanced at Cass, who was observing them with interest. Was Cass thinking the child was his? “Freya.” He nodded toward Cass. “This is Cass Bellow. Freya is an old friend.”
“Hello,” Freya said with a small smile as the two women studied each other.
A man not much taller than Freya but with huge shoulders joined them. He studied Lyle then Cass before giving Freya a questioning look, his brows making a V at his nose.
Freya cleared her throat. “This is Angus, my husband.”
Lyle extend his hand. “Lyle Sinclair.” It took a second before the man’s eyes widened in recognition, then narrowed.
Angus shook Lyle’s hand briefly, then put his arm across Freya’s shoulders in a statement of ownership. To her he said, “Your parents are waiting.”
Freya gave Lyle a sad, apologetic look. “It was nice to see you, Lyle.”
“You too, Freya.” He watched them walk away. That had certainly been interesting. Why had the meeting left him feeling so disconcerted? He’d got over Freya years ago, yet it still shook him to see her again. At one time they had been so close. Now there was a fence between them so high that they would never be able to climb it. Her husband’s actions and facial expression made him question how controlling and overly jealous he might be. Was Freya truly happy?
“I think it’s time for me to get back to the castle.” Cass stood. “I promised Flora I would help with some of the decorations today instead of formal therapy.”
Lyle blinked. How had he forgotten Cass was there? She must think him an idiot. “But we haven’t finished our meal.”
She gave him a curious look. “I have. Thank you for the pie. I should go.”
“I’ll walk you to the minibus.” He needed to answer the questions hanging between them.
Cass waved for him to sit down. “No, you finish your lunch. I can find my way. I’ll see you back at the castle.”
Before he could order his thoughts, she was gone.
What was Cass thinking? Imagining? Had she seen what had once been between him and Freya?
CHAPTER SIX
BACK AT THE castle Cass debated whether or not to return Lyle’s coat and other belongings that evening or wait until she saw him during work hours. Surely he needed his clothes. Yet her growing curiosity about the history between him and Freya made her cautious about seeking him out. It really wasn’t her business, and yet she couldn’t dismiss the distinct impression that something between them had caused Lyle great pain. Or was the baby the issue?
She knew Lyle well enough to know he would take responsibility for a child he’d fathered. Having a family of his own would be a serious matter to him. So was the baby his?
As hard as Cass had tried to maintain her emotional distance from Lyle, she cared about him. He had made it impossible for her to remain uninterested. Not only did she find him attractive, he had also proved he was a good man. So here she was, caring about him, concerned for him.
The feeling he needed someone to talk to also nagged at her. She owed him. Maybe she could help.
With her new socks and boots on and wearing her own jacket, which she’d found a few days ago laid out on her bed, she bundled Lyle’s coat, socks, scarf and hat in her arms and made her way out of the castle. It would soon be dark, so she had tucked her flashlight safely in her pocket for the return trip.
At the gate leading into his yard she stopped. Was she being too forward by coming to his home like this? What would he think about her just showing up? Still, the need to see him, be there for him if he needed to talk, neutralized her apprehension. Her outlook on life had improved so much since he’d let her spill her problems to him. Maybe tonight he needed someone to listen to his troubles. She owed him and cared about him enough that she should at least be here for him. They were friends.
Pausing in the act of knocking on the door, she had the uneasy feeling her “honorable” thoughts about Lyle needing her were just an excuse to see him again. He had friends, colleagues, even his parents to confide in, so what had possessed her to think he required her?
As if of its own accord her fist hit the door. Breath held, she listened for movement inside, half wishing Lyle wasn’t home, half hoping he was. All of this was so against her nature. She’d always known her own mind. Why was she doubting herself now? Why had she started acting like a silly schoolgirl around Lyle?
She had stepped off the porch to leave when the door opened. Her heart beat faster as she straightened her back.
“Cass?” He sounded both startled and pleased.
Did he think she was seeking his interest by showing up like this? Was she? “I, uh, wanted to return your things now I have my jacket back and a new scarf and hat.” She thrust them into his hands before turning away.
“Would you like to come in for some coffee?” He asked, sounding hopeful.
She looked at him, even less sure about being there. But hadn’t she been eager for Lyle to invite her in? “Could we make that tea?”
He chuckled. “Of course. Come in.”
Inside, Lyle helped her off with her coat. As he did so, his hands rested on her shoulders for a moment. She missed the heaviness of them the second they were gone. She had the impression he wanted to keep an appropriate distance between them. Wasn’t that what she’d all but told him she wanted? Especially after their kiss in the shop. Or did she want that?
“Come and join me in the kitchen,” Lyle suggested as he moved through the door opposite the living room.
“Let me take my boots off first. They’re pretty muddy.” Cass sat on the small bench underneath the coat rack and removed them, then followed him.
Lyle was already at the stove with the kettle in his hand when she entered. He placed it on the element and leaned against the c
ounter. “I see you’re wearing your new socks again.”
“Yes. They’re the best I’ve ever worn. I plan to buy a few more pairs before I leave for home.” Cass settled into one of the wooden chairs at the small round table in the middle of the room.
“Flora tells me that if you continue making the progress you have been, it’ll be sooner rather than later.” He opened a tin filled with biscuits and placed it on the table before returning to the cabinets.
She reached for a biscuit. “I’m pretty determined to get through this as quickly as possible.”
Lyle glanced over his shoulder, studying her for a moment. What was he thinking? He returned to removing mugs from an upper cabinet and added tea bags to them. “I noticed that.”
Did it bother him that she so was eager to leave the clinic? Cass looked around. “I like your kitchen.”
“Thanks.” He put a bowl of sugar and small pitcher of milk on the table. The kettle switched itself off as the water was boiling. Lyle poured the steaming water into the mugs before setting one in front of her and the other at the place beside her, rather than across from her. He took a seat.
She liked him being close enough to touch. Maybe she had imagined he was trying to keep distance between them.
Lyle pushed the tin in her direction. “Have another if you wish. It’s interesting you like my kitchen. These old cottage kitchens have charm but they’re often difficult to modernize. I’ve been led to believe women like to have the latest and greatest to work with.”
Cass added sugar and milk to her tea. “That sounds like you’re speaking from personal experience.”
“Yeah. Freya always wanted one of those new brick houses with all the glass.”
A zip ran along Cass’s nerves. He had made it that easy for her to ask about Freya. Still, she hesitated to pry. Would he be upset if she did? Cass watched him. Lyle studied his tea. “Would that be the Freya I met today?”
